


No Passion to be Found in Settling

by VigilanteFlower



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, M/M, Passive-aggression, Roommates, Voyeurism, additonal tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 09:53:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13385343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VigilanteFlower/pseuds/VigilanteFlower
Summary: When Hux's roommate leaves suddenly, he hasn't got enough time to properly screen a new one. With Ben Solo, early mornings are now characterized by the sweet scent of pancakes and unexpected voyeurism at the kitchen table.





	No Passion to be Found in Settling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kylorenhasan8pack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylorenhasan8pack/gifts).



> I know some M|M shippers don't like when there's girls or OCs around, but trust me, there's more to it than what this chapter and Hux's POV provides. All will be revealed in time, I promise. I hope you stick around and enjoy! :)

**_ISO: Roommate for 2 bedroom apartment, West End._ **  

I’m a law intern looking for someone to take the second bedroom of my apartment. All other living spaces are shared. Utilities included, furnished with the basics. Gender and age doesn’t matter, but you must have a solid job because I cannot take on more hours at work to make up for any financial shortcomings. 

If interested, please email [ A.Hux@gmail.com ](mailto:A.Hux@gmail.com)

 

*  *  *

 

This was what he got for settling. Early mornings were now characterized by the heavy scent of breakfast baking and unexpected voyeurism at the kitchen table, _his_ kitchen table. This morning in particular, the combination seemed to be pancakes and a topless blond woman perched on the lap of Ben Solo.

Things hadn’t been going particularly well for Hux, not since his last roommate had packed up and left only a week before rent was due. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel sympathetic about the man’s academic plight, but he understood. Ambition like his was not something that everyone had. The trouble was, that left Hux with exactly seven days to come up with a grand he didn’t have, during an internship he couldn’t jeopardize. So, craigslist it had been, paired with a teeth gritting lowering of his standards that had haunted him ever since.

“Do you mind?” He snapped, well before his brain could move on from the surprise.

His heart was jumping, making him want to chase it down and squash it like a cricket disrupting a dinner party. It’s exuberance was partnered by a growl from his gut, begging for something to process despite the new impediment. All he wanted was a peaceful continuation of his morning routine, not some multifaceted interruption of his life and theirs. If he’d anticipated that _this_ would be a consequence of his living arrangement with Ben, he would have chosen his father's financial aid instead. A choice that was only marginally less humiliating than homelessness.

That morning, an impeccable internal clock had given him the time to pay a little extra attention to his hair in the mirror, and the way his shirt was ironed. He wanted to look immaculate to the partners at the firm. However, the additional primping meant Hux had no time to spare for the entangled pair, or their pending relocation. Which meant moving as quickly as he could from the entrance to the refrigerator and ducking behind it’s blessedly opaque door.

The unknown girl let out a charming, scandalized little giggle that made his skin crawl as he struggled to contain a barely muffled groan of irritation behind his thinly pressed lips. How inconsiderate could they be? This wasn’t even her apartment, and didn’t Ben understand basic roommate etiquette? At least have the wherewithal to be conscious of others nearby and _attempt_ to be discrete.

But discrete was not something Ben seemed able to be. He’d started having his girlfriend over not long after moving in, and Hux had apologized for walking in on them kissing once. He’d also apologized the second time it happened. They’d simply waved him off and returned to what they were doing. The third, however, he’d given Ben a confused look and carried on without saying anything. It had produced an unexpected thrill inside him when their eyes met, but the oddity of the continued interruptions trumped all else. At the time, he’d wondered why Ben seemed to care so little about his privacy, but then the headboard began slamming against their adjoining bedroom wall a few hours later and Hux was left with a very profound understanding of exactly how little Ben cared what Hux knew of his sex life.

“Oh, hey. Mornin’.”

Ben spoke as if they were just passing in the hall, looking beyond the girls shoulder when she pressed against him to cover herself. Her hidden smile irked Hux, in much the same way Ben’s lazy hand on her bare back did; as if Hux was being the disruptive one.

“I just made pancakes-- Did you want some?”

The tone seemed to teeter between amusement and something genuinely well-meaning. It caught on a ridge inside him like a fractured nail on nylon. Was he being teased? He looked over the top of the fridge door and eyed up the aromatic pan left on the stove as if it were a kettle of fish heads. His lip curled petulantly at the idea of participating in the lovers picturesque morning.

“No, thank you.”

He dismissed Ben’s goodwill, only briefly catching the smile and warm gaze Ben was leveling on him as he picked out last night's leftovers and a yogurt. Breakfast would wait, because he didn’t think he could swallow anything right now. It wasn’t very rational; getting embarrassed at this age was an embarrassment in itself. He could feel the girls eyes turn to him as he closed the fridge, and there was something momentarily surreal in the slowness of it, her attention becoming a closing punctuation to his discomfort.

Hux shifted to find his travel mug on the drying rack. He felt the muscles in his neck clench up just slightly when his gaze fell upon a sluggish drip of creamy mucus from the lip of an unwashed bowl in the sink, surrounded by its equally sticky cooking companions. A playful hum of resignation brought his attention back to Ben, which would have been a more welcome distraction from the mess, if Ben hadn’t been the one to make it.

“More for me then..." 

The switch in tone was audible when Ben returned his focus to the woman in his lap, an intimate note colouring the otherwise plain response. The sound of skin slapping against skin startled him, twinned with a loathsome, kittenish giggle. Hux suddenly felt far too hot to stay inside any longer.

Hux had been described as over-dramatic at times, a criticism he called upon to help stifle his reaction as he glanced over to see the couple fully within each others thrall once again. A soft curl of lips met the coy way she tilted her chin down and looked up through overhanging lashes, in some mockery of denial. All of it was irritating.

He lidded his empty travel mug with a clatter of plastic on metal as he left the room to put his shoes on aggressively, cursing himself when he crushed the structured leather of its heel. How long was this going to go on? He was going to have to get over the discomfort at least long enough to actually talk about it, or continue to pretend it wasn’t happening while really being hyper aware. Whatever decision he made, it wasn’t going to be addressed right now, so he placed his anger in the procuring of both his coat and keys.

“Have a good day at work!”

Ben’s sweet, baritone voice rang through the air clear and warm, followed by the grating screech of chair legs against the tile floor and a delighted squeal.

Hux nearly pitched his lunch back into the apartment as he stepped out the front door.

 

*  *  *

 

Hux’s leg bounced beneath his desk, and he was sitting too far back in his chair. Usually the other interns were much more engaged with him, but they’d been keeping their distance this morning, making sure interactions were short and concise.The mornings events had left him rattled and only served to make it exceedingly difficult to wipe the unimpressed look off his face as he attempted to get work done. A mousy, soft eyed young man had brought him a coffee and told Hux to take it easy, but his thoughts had almost drowned out the gesture entirely.

Why hadn’t he demanded more of applicants than a solid job? Shouldn’t he have outlined a preferred lifestyle better? He’d only had a handful of days, but regardless, he should have asked for more. Or perhaps caving into asking for help from his father really would have been the better option. Though he disliked even considering such a thing.

Life had been going so wonderfully up until this situation dropped itself in his lap. He’d gotten the internship he wanted, his marks had been top notch, and his social life was fine. Though he’d admit to himself that his love life wasn’t the most interesting thing to explain in recent years. 

He’d received more “Well Done”s than anyone else in the program, though a few jealous glares had been tossed his way in their wake. More of them might mean he’d be kept on after the term ended, which would support his sudden need to find his own place to live sooner, rather than later.

When lunch came around, he sat with his leftovers at the break room table, trying to hunt down an old email when he spotted the ones from Ben. He’d seemed so promising in the messages. They were simple and free of red flags. He supposed he simply wasn’t the kind of person who could ask into a stranger's sexual habits before even knowing them, as much as knowing would have saved him from his current circumstance.

Beacons of a bachelor lifestyle had begun popping up around the apartment about a week into Ben’s living there. Hux had not been impressed when he went to sit on the couch and found a pair of foul smelling, overly worn socks in his favourite spot. Despite his careful removal of the offending cloth, the smell had lingered, and so he’d given up making himself comfortable. A few days later, he’d noticed Ben’s habit of only putting away the perishables after he cooked, leaving other supplies on the counter. Sometimes they made it into the sink, sometimes about half of them got washed, but Hux had yet to witness a full clean up job. He was no ones maid. But, more powerful than that denial, was his phobia of mould. So doing the dishes with a bubbling desire to frisbee toss them at Ben’s head had become a common routine.

While Ben broke roommate taboos left and right, the most aggressively disquieting interruption of his life came in the form of a pretty blond woman. He refused to learn her name, entirely based on spite. It was petty that he didn’t want to get to know her, but his entire introduction to her existence had been through excessive moaning and the smack of Ben’s headboard on their adjoining wall. At an oh-so-glorious two in the morning, on a Thursday. Ben worked at a record store a couple blocks from their apartment, and so his days off were staggered. Hux wondered if he could go in himself and ask them to make Ben’s days off match his, if only so he would have the ability to preemptively plan to be busy those nights.

It wasn’t just the lack of sleep that annoyed him. First of all, there was the stark reminder that such blatant acts of affection and sexuality were not something he could likely ever do. Did he want to? He had always been a naturally private person, but he wanted the choice to be there. Heterosexual love was something that could be plastered everywhere, without question, and he really did not need it to take up neon lights in his kitchen. It was oppressive enough having to keep tight lipped about his preference at work and around his family, and now, with a hulking high school jock of a man in his apartment, he was fairly sure it wouldn’t go over especially well in his own home.

That was another thing. Ben was nothing short of stereotypical. Big, broad, deep voiced, a nose that looked like it had been broken at least twice, and horribly smelling feet. Not to mention inconsiderate and overly proud of his sexual accomplishments. None of these aspects traditionally amalgamated into a person that also contained the trait of being open minded, at least in his lived experience.

If he were to guess, he’d say Ben was more likely the type to have beaten him up in high school just for ‘looking gay’. It wasn’t as if a good look at Hux didn’t make people suspicious, but at least there were words like meterosexual to explain his preference for a fashionable and pristine appearance. He was serious enough as a person that people generally found him unapproachable about such personal topics. Which was perfectly fine with Hux. He didn’t want to be asked. Not that he hadn’t had his fair share of experiences over the years. He was in his late twenties, so he’d enjoyed a few years of discrete exploration during his undergrad, but graduate school was more demanding of his time and energy, as well as filled with potentially bigoted people he regrettably needed to impress. Sometimes, it wasn’t even a secret that they were bigoted, but universities had a habit of protecting those they tenured, and really, Hux wasn’t about to flaunt his sexuality anyway.  

That afternoon, he noted an exceptionally passive aggressive ‘Hope you have a nice day’ he’d plastered at the end of one particularly virulent email, as if he’d slathered glue over the side of a building and slapped on a poster that screamed his impatience. He knew Ben was working until late tonight and was looking forward to a nap before heading out with a friend for some drinks later in the evening. Thank god it was Friday.

As he headed home, he eyed up suits that were wrapped expertly around mannequins in shop windows. The firm he worked at was in the most affluent part of the city, making Armani a common sight. One day, that would be him. A perfectly tailored suit, a world renowned court case won, a place to live all his own. But fantasies were made to be interrupted by reality.

His phone buzzed with a crackle in the cupholder of his car, but he waited to check it until a red light.

 

Ben 5:32PM: Hey

Ben 5:32PM: Pick up some szechuan sauce

 

A heavy, disgruntled sigh exited his body. One day soon, but not soon enough, he would make that fantasy into his reality.

 

*  *  *

 

It was never that simple, was it? Of course he couldn’t come home to the place in a tidy state, nor walk past it all to the comfort of his bed and pretend he lived alone. 

A perfectly timed ‘plop’ split the air as the improperly turned tap dripped into a sink full of unwashed dishes. He could see the hardened pancake batter crusted on the mixing bowl all the way from the doorway. On the floor around his table was an array of various clothing, and not far from it, on the way to the bedrooms, a few more. But that really only served to punctuate the sight of a lacy pink bra hung over the back of a chair. He approached it slowly, as if it were a venomous snake he had to approach with calculated precision. The mornings unpleasant greeting vividly reappeared in his mind's eye as a fury in his gut rose with it.   

Finally, he picked up the discarded garment, as the splitting of his last nerve manifested in the slight tremor of his hand. Grey-green eyes slowly moved from the soft fabric, up to the exit of the kitchen that aligned perfectly with Ben’s bedroom door. The moment reminded him of that morning, most specifically when the entire scene could have been paused like a tableau with the couples eyes boring into him, and his own trained on the yogurt in his hand. It was as if all eyes had turned on this moment as one to be defined.

Hux dropped his briefcase, along with the grocery bag, and yanked the lapels of his coat back. Tossing it haphazardly upon the hooks, he dropped to his knees and began shoving shoes out of the way, determined to find the old tool set he left there for simple fixes. This was the last straw, he refused to be harrassed like this any longer. If Ben was going to carry on, with no concern for Hux’s well being, he would take matters into his own hands and insure his own comfort in the apartment he paid for equally. 

From the closet, Hux pulled a small tool box, and with it in hand, marched into Ben’s empty bedroom. A hard yank to the mattress separated it from the headboard with a quick screech from the shifting frame. After that, he only needed to find each offending piece of metal that kept the laminated wood in place.The bed technically belonged to him, so if Ben was going to abuse it, he was going to take it away.   

Getting the silly thing out of the room and into the storage closet turned out to be a bit of a feat all by himself, but it felt glorious once he closed the door behind it. A sigh of relief was punctuated by sagging shoulders as he basked in the thought of never having to hear that damn thing smack against his wall again.

 

*  *  *

 

After years of hiding out in his own consciousness with fantasies of poetic, masculine minds and forms, he’d come to an impasse. And he wasn’t the only one, he knew that. There were excessively vibrant parades for everyone outside of his position, so how could he forget? And yet here he was, stumbling out of a cab and eyeing up the monstrous, drink diffused apartment building; profoundly alone. No handsome man on his arm, no pretty boy with a sensual tongue. Just himself, and a long navy coat that made his wrists itch.

The cab pulled away but the sound didn’t register as his vision narrowed in on the concrete stairs before him. Hux cursed at them and their many brothers yet to come. Was that aloud or in his own mind? He wasn’t completely sure. But neither possibility mattered, as slowly, with carefully considered steps, he made his way along the late night halls of the sleeping building. 

He wondered if he would have had less to drink, if only there was someone at home to be sober for. He’d tried that once. Living with someone special. But it hadn’t worked out, and he did not want to repeat that spiral. He’d stop thinking right there. 

Hux paused in the kitchen, realizing for a moment that he couldn’t remember having gotten from the front door, to where he stood. The smell of szechuan sauce and cooked chicken were first to reach his nose, and the thought of Ben cooking immediately drew his attention to the freshly filled drying rack next to the sink. But before he could contemplate the idea that Ben had actually cleaned up after himself, there was a sound. The unwanted, unanticipated, familiar pattern, of a headboard hitting a wall. His wall. His goddamn wall and that goddamn headboard. 

He had expected rage to boil in his belly at the realization that Ben had found and returned the headboard to its rightful place. Instead, there was a strange sense of smug satisfaction. A feeling he attributed to his irritation being acknowledged. Attention had been paid. His message had been received in all it’s passive-aggressive glory. It was a speciality of his, after all.

The bedroom door was half open, leaking it’s apparent lack of secrecy into the kitchen. The woman’s voice was soft, but urgent, and flooded his murky head. It swirled among the amber fingers of scotch behind his eyelids, as the scent of sex made itself known beneath the banana-nut fragrance of a cheap candle and left overs.

He needed to get to his room, which meant passing Ben’s, and it was no small gap between door and frame. Cautiously, his socked feet padded across the hardwood floor, though he didn’t know why he was bothering to be quiet. It just felt like what he was supposed to do, and so he did it. A bare faced question came to him before reaching the angular glow left by a bedside lamp. Should he look?

He barely knew Ben. They’d not spoken much since he moved in, only to give direction, make requests, or clarify schedules. Hux wouldn’t call him a friend, just an acquaintance, someone who shared his space, if nothing else. And yet Ben thought it appropriate to bask in the glory of partnership as he pleased,  highlighting each throb of Hux’s head like a bass drum in the symphony of his life’s frustrations. If Ben was going to so shamelessly prostrate himself before his carnal desires in Hux’s home, then Hux was within his right to take what he wanted from the experience. The saying went, if you can’t beat them, join them. So, fine, he would indulge too. 

Hux stood with his side pressed to the doorframe, chin cocked as he glanced into the partially lit room. Shadows were most of what he could see, the rest was more movement than definition. His intoxication did not help with details, but the more he watched, the clearler it became.

Her face was pushed to the pillow, arms crossed beneath it, hugging the support to her throat as she moaned into it. She was pretty, he’d never deny that in his own head, but his eyes were hers only for a moment.

Looming above her, a dark splash of curling waves hung from the head of a man whose body gleamed subtly in the steady light. Rosen lips were parted as heavy, barely audible breathes shoved themselves backward out of his overly broad chest. Hux’s jaw slackened as the rise of his arousal overpowered the heat of liquor fermenting in his system.

Everything he saw of Ben, he wanted. He ached for more than what his prudish preference for propriety allowed him. More than an intern with a promising future, so long as he kept his fly zipped and his mouth shut.

Hux watched as Ben straightened, his hands moving to her hips as his thrusts became more demanding. It was all so depraved. Putting the headboard back, deciding to leave his bedroom door open...Why had he left it open? Why was Hux standing here watching and feeling strangely about the done dishes? It was as if he’d been welcomed to where he stood by carefully manufactured circumstance.

Ben couldn’t be that cunning.

Ben wouldn’t want him to watch.

That was ridiculous.

Hux was hard. He knew that. How could he not be? He was watching this meticulously constructed example of human masculinity perform for him. Not for him, though he wished it right then, but really for her. Always for her. There was always a her.

The sounds changed while he was stuck in his own head. Suddenly, a deep growl overlayed the gentle moans of a higher pitch. It drove a pulse of pleasure like a wooden stake down through his core and forced out an involuntary response. A release of breath held far too long escaped with the lowering of his eyes. He needed to look away. He needed to mask his own want now that he had lost the ability to contain it. 

Seconds later, he was curled up in the silence of the apartment, slipping into sleep, with no memory of the journey there.  

**Author's Note:**

> Things are about to get interesting for Hux ;) This fic was born out of a 2AM visual writing prompt that lead to a lot of late night talking with Kylorenhasan8pack. :) 
> 
> Here is a link to the visual prompt:  
> https://kylo-ren-has-an-8pack.tumblr.com/post/168917797034/kylux-modern-au-ren-is-huxs-hot-new-roommate
> 
> Thank you to my best friend for being my editor and pushing me to make this so much better than the first draft lol
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and please comment!


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